


On The Edge Of The Impossible

by minnesotamemelord



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers Feels, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Gen, M/M, Minor Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Oblivious Steve Rogers, POV Natasha Romanov, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, basically nat is just steve and tony's wingwoman, well it's not minor but it's not the main relationship, you bitches better be thankful for the amount of research i do for things that don't even MATTER
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19390984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnesotamemelord/pseuds/minnesotamemelord
Summary: Tony Stark is in love with Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers is in love with Tony Stark.The only two people who don't seem to get that are Steve and Tony.





	1. Little World

"Coffee." It was less a question or request than a demand, as was usual of Natasha in the early morning. She was not a morning person, by any means of the word, but her Red Room training had given her the discipline to be up at six without an alarm. The most infuriating part of that was not that a boarding school that turned young Russian girls into assassins had so royally fucked her up- it was that Steve American-Fucking-Patriot Rogers woke up at five every morning. Also without an alarm.

"Good morning." He greeted her with an easy smile. He was like a goddamn Ken doll. Not a single hair out of place.

"Douchebag," Nat responded, reaching for the coffee mug he handed her. The mugs had been Tony's Christmas gift to everyone. She had suggested that given Stark Industries' inclination to move away from weapons, perhaps he could start a line of crockery. He had, in return, suggested a place to put her mug (spoiler alert- it involved one of her body cavities and a rather uncomfortable-sounding procedure in order to get it there).

Steve shoved what looked like half a pancake into his mouth, hardly bothering to chew before he swallowed and devoured the other half. Natasha felt a little nauseated.

"So, what's your plan for today?" He asked through a mouthful of pancake.

"Finish eating and I'll tell you." He finished chewing and arched an eyebrow at her expectantly. "I thought I'd do... absolutely nothing." Steve frowned, disappointed.

"Why don't you come with me? I'm going into the city today for groceries, but I thought I might stop by the gym, and maybe the used bookstore that you like." He was trying to bait her into going with him. The coward. However, half-price Dean Koontz was a hard offer to pass up.

"Sure, why not?"

"I can list several reasons." Tony padded into the kitchen with a yawn, still in his pajamas, if you could call them that. Tony was the kind of person who didn't actually own a pair of pajamas and just slept in whatever clothes he didn't wear on a normal basis. In his case, that was because he stole those clothes from his teammates. At the moment, he was wearing Rhodey's MIT shirt, Steve's Dodgers hoodie, and Nat's sweatpants, which, much to her annoyance and surprise, looked incredibly good on him. "First, Rogers goes to fucking Whole Foods. That place-" He shivered comically as if a bucket of invisible snakes had been dumped into his pants. "Second, you know we have a library here, right? With all the Dean Koontz you could want. And third-" he flashed Natasha his most charming smile. "-Wanda and I were going to take the boat out. Maybe do a little fishing." Nat grimaced.

"As insanely fun as fishing with you and Sparky sounds, I think I'll pass." Tony looked genuinely disappointed. She felt bad. And now she felt bad about feeling bad. "But, if you want, we can take the boat out tonight." The boat was less of a boat and more of a 40-foot yacht with a hot tub and fully stocked bar. It served as a party space for the Avengers following the construction of the compound, but Nat didn't want to know exactly what it had been used for before that. All she knew was that every bedroom had a lube dispenser and there was a button next to the steering wheel that said "FIESTA" in very large, very glittery letters.

Tony shrugged, but he was clearly pleased. "Fine by me." He turned to leave.

"Hold up, Tony." Nat grabbed him by the hood of his- well, Steve's- sweatshirt and yanked him back. "It's six-thirty. You didn't go to bed until four forty-five."

"What, now you're timing when I sleep? Come on, Mom." He joked, but the dark circles under his eyes were growing by the day.

"You have to take care of yourself. That means sleeping and eating and drinking water."

"I drink water."

"Whiskey and coffee don't count."

"...fine." He reached across the counter and snatched a pancake off of Steve's tremendous stack, rolled it up, and took a bite. "Are you happy?"

"No!" Steve finally interrupted. "Get your own fucking breakfast!" Tony gasped and mocked offense.

"Capsicle. Language."

"Are you ever going to let that go?" Tony and Nat shared a look. Then they burst out laughing.

"Oh, absolutely not," she assured him. "When are we leaving?"

"Pretty quick." Steve shoveled down the last of his breakfast. "I'm just going to hop in the shower."

"I'll alert the media." Tony gave a flat, sarcastic grin as he leaned against the wall to let Steve by. From behind her coffee, Nat swore she could see the faintest hint of a blush creeping down from Tony's ears (his ears always blushed first. It was weird.)

"I'll see you tonight, yeah?"

"Mmhm." As soon as it had appeared, the rosy hue that had tinged Tony's face was gone. Well, gone from sight. Not quite gone from mind, however.

"Would you quit putting that crap in the cart? I'm pretty sure eating one of those would kill you." Nat ignored Steve, as she often did, and tossed the box of Hostess Star-Spangled Ding Dongs in the cart. She didn't actually like eating them. In terms of processed sugar consumption, she preferred hers in the form of chocolate, but she loved these for the endless well of jokes that could be made. They were also one of the only things Tony would voluntarily eat, which left opportunities for about a million more jokes open. "God, at least buy a vegetable."

"Fine." Nat grabbed a bag of potato chips and threw them in too. "Potatoes are vegetables," she said when she saw Steve's disappointed expression.

"For all the shit you give Tony about not eating, the way you eat isn't much better." Natasha just shrugged. She ate what she ate and she'd die when she'd die. That had always been her philosophy. Besides, she had expected to die before her twentieth birthday, and that had been a while ago. She wasn't dead yet, so as far as she knew, she was immortal. Probably not, but then, she didn't really give a shit.

"When can we go? I'm beginning to think that Tony's idea of sitting on the lake in total silence might be a lot more interesting than watching you struggle to choose a peach. Just pick one already. Jesus."

"Alright, fine. Let's go."

They did exactly what Steve said he had planned (he liked to stick to schedules. He was boring that way.) A gym visit and six paperback mysteries later, they got back on the road. Steve and Natasha rode their motorcycles side-by-side, the wind whipping Nat's hair around her in a tornado of orange. As she stared at his back, she almost pitied Steve. She'd never tell him that- she wasn't totally nuts- but it was sort of impossible not to. He had lost everything important to him when he went in the ice. He was starting from scratch. In that sense, she supposed she was lucky. Not that she had grown up the way she did and done the things she'd done. More that she hadn't had anything that was important to her in the first place. It was like playing Monopoly (which was no longer an option for game night following Tony going bankrupt and nearly strangling Steve), only she had just started the game and he was on his 70th trip around the board. They both passed go, both collected $200, but Steve had his past mistakes and regrets behind him. She had a fresh start. She also didn't own any spaces on the board so she was pretty much paying rent all the time- she was losing the thread of this analogy.

The sun was just beginning its descent when they got back. The trip from the compound to the city took a ridiculously long time, but there was jack-shit to do anywhere near the facility, so Natasha and Steve, along with Rhodey and Wanda from time to time, made the trip weekly, sometimes more.

"Want to help with dinner?" Steve asked hopefully as they walked inside. "I could use a hand."

"I'm good, thanks. Remember the last time I helped?" The last time Nat had tried to make dinner, three people, including her, ended up in the emergency room, and the kitchen was declared a disaster area for a week. Needless to say, she left the cooking to others. "Why not ask Tony?" Steve shrugged.

"He's probably working on something else."

"I'll check the lab and see if I can pry him away."

"It's fine, I don't need him. Er- I don't need help. From anyone."

"You sure?" He nodded, ducking his chin.

"Yeah. I'll call you when I'm done." Before she could answer, he walked off, swinging the grocery bags at his side. Steve was more temperamental than she'd thought before they started living together. His attitude changed on a whim, and a lot of the time, nobody was really sure what made him so moody. Whatever. He could deal with his shit on his own. As long as she got dinner out of the deal, Natasha was want to leave him alone.

Tony was, in fact, in the lab, staring intently at a holographic blueprint as he munched on a sleeve of cookies.

"What are you working on?" Nat asked, taking a seat on his desk.

"New suit for Cap. Thin Mint?" He held out the cookies.

"How do you still have those? It's July. The Girl Scouts stopped selling three months ago." He shrugged, never taking his eyes off the hologram.

"Put them in the freezer. Forgot about them. Found them again when I was looking for ice cream."

"Clint ate it all last time he was here. If you'd come with us to the store, you could've gotten some more." Finally, he tore his attention from the suit design, shutting the program down.

"It's fine," he said, holding up the cookies as if to emphasize his point.

"Why don't you ever come with us? It's like you never leave this place anymore. Not unless you're in the suit." Tony smiled toothily, but it was weak. Even if he had been a good liar, Nat would have seen right through him.

"I'm okay, Natalie." Sometimes he still called her Natalie, or Rushman, a vestige of her time at Stark Industries. "I've got everything I need right here."

"...right." They both knew what he wasn't saying. _"And I don't just mean you."_

Tony had skipped out early on dinner, scraping most of his pasta into a tupperware and disappearing through the kitchen door, presumably to the roof. His floor, the top floor, had direct access to the roof. Since Sokovia, it seemed, he spent all his free time either in the lab or on the roof. Sometimes on the boat if someone else wanted to take it out. Natasha watched him leave with curious eyes. When the door slammed shut behind him, she wrenched her attention back to the table, but Steve- his eyes kept flicking back towards it, as if he thought Tony might suddenly reappear.

Nat finished off her plate as quickly as possible, ignoring the quizzical looks Clint threw her way, and followed Tony up to the roof, stopping by her bedroom to snag the quilt off her bed. She wrapped it around her shoulders, shutting out the cool air off the water. She found Tony sitting towards one edge of the roof, overlooking the rest of the compound. He looked relaxed, despite the goosebumps up and down his bare arms. She took a seat behind him and wrapped one end of the blanket around his shoulders. Wordlessly, Tony moved closer against her, and she wrapped an arm around his waist. Not long ago, she might have done this more flirtatiously, like she was trying to seduce him. Not long ago, he might have been seduced by her. In those days, whenever she felt his gaze fall on her, she could feel his attraction to her. Hell, maybe she had been attracted to him too, under all the layers of artifice. But if anything had been there before, it was long gone. Now, all she felt was a sort of comfortable affection, the feeling they had been friends even longer than they had. Which was why she knew him. Maybe better than he knew himself.

"You ran out of there like a bat out of hell."

"Wasn't hungry."

"You should eat."

"I will."

"What's going on with you, Tony?" He shook his head, smiling gently.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Really?" He nodded.

"Fine. I got another question for you."

"Shoot. I'm an open book, Nat, you know that."

"If you say so." She braced herself, not a hundred percent sure what his reaction would be.

"Are you going to ask me something, or-"

"How long have you been in love with Rogers?"


	2. Wide Open

Tony didn't say anything at first, just stared. And then he burst out laughing.

"Jesus, Natasha." When he saw that she wasn't laughing along with him, his face dropped. "You're serious?"

"I'm not blind or stupid, Tony. Since we left Sokovia, you either refuse to be in the same room with him or you look at him with those heart eyes that make you look like a cartoon character. So I'll ask you again- how long?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not in _love_ with Rogers, and even if I were, he's not- I can't-" Natasha stayed silent, but she reached out for his hand, which he let her take. His head dropped so that his chin brushed against his chest. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and his stubble had grown out around his goatee. He looked tired, and older than he actually was. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "A little over six months. Maybe longer. I don't know."

"Six... months? And you never said anything?" He shrugged.

"How could I?"

"And how- I mean, why- Good lord, Stark."

"At the Hydra facility in Sokovia, Wanda got me with her magical vision whatever." Natasha nodded, remembering her own vision. Wanda was a sweet kid, and they were both glad to have her on their side, but there was always a little bit of lingering fear whenever she was in the room, knowing she could do it again if she wanted. "I saw all of you. Dead. Cap's shield- it was snapped in half. He grabbed me, and told me I could have saved you. And then he died in my arms." Tony sighed. "And I realized when I snapped out of it- as devastated as I was when I saw you and Bruce and Thor and Clint- that was nothing compared to what I felt when I saw him. I felt like I couldn't live anymore. Not if he was gone."

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell me?"

"What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, Nat, just a heads up, I think I want to bang the captain?'"

"You're an idiot, you know that, right?"

"That feels uncalled for, given I just bared my soul to you."

"I'm not the one you need to tell that to.” Nat squeezed Tony’s shoulder with her free hand. “If there’s even a chance he might feel the same way, it’s worth it.” She pulled the blanket tighter around them. “God knows I wish I would have said something more.”

”Hey.” Now it was Tony’s turn to pull her into a one-armed hug. “Bruce will be back. He’s just... struggling. With a lot of demons.” She smiled sadly back at him.

”We’ve all got our demons, Tony. But if you have the chance to do something about it, you should.” With that, Nat stood up, draping the rest of the blanket around Tony. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"'Night."

"Goodnight, Tony."

Back on her floor, Natasha thought about what Tony had said. About his vision, how he felt when he Steve dead. That same sort of brokenness, she realized, was how she felt now. Bruce was missing, god knows where, without a trace or a reason why. She paced the floor, her bare feet freezing against the tiles, her stereo blasting AC/DC- it only played cassette tapes, and those were the only ones Tony owned. Oh well. She didn't mind, she liked AC/DC. The incessant screaming matched her internal monologue.

Nat was by no means glad that Tony, who was almost her best friend, was hurting like that, but it gave her a distraction from her own issues, for which she was thankful. She was over her own issues. Well, they were still there, and they haunted her incessantly, but she was ignoring them. Bruce and the Red Room and everything else could wait. It would wait until Tony and Steve got over themselves and realized that just because everyone around them was miserable and they had both been miserable for the last several decades, that didn't mean they didn't deserve to be happy.

She fell into bed and yanked a pillow over her face.

"Friday?" Her voice was muffled, but loud enough that the AI could hear it. "Shut off the lights and radio." Both switched off, and she slithered under the covers, twisting her legs in the silk sheets. Her mind kept racing, trying to sort out the jumble of information in her head into a coherent thought. Just as her thoughts finally straightened out, she drifted off into a dark, seemingly dreamless sleep, sinking into an infinite black void.


	3. Snap Out Of It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long to get out. I basically haven't been home for a month, and I was having some trouble finding inspiration. But I'm back, and I promise to try to update more regularly. Thanks for your patience! Comments and feedback are always read and appreciated. -C

Nat woke up with an arm draped over her waist. Soft brown curls brushed the back of her neck. Quasi-washboard abs pressed against her back. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell, a combination of peppermint and lemon-scented disinfectant.

"Mm. Morning." No reply. "Hey." She jabbed him with her elbow. "Wake up." Finally, he stirred.

"What?" Bruce groaned, shielding his eyes from the incoming sunlight.

"Good morning."

"Ugh. Lemme sleep."

"No, don't." Natasha reached back blindly and shook something. A shoulder. She turned around to face him, sliding her hand around his back so they were facing each other. She pushed a lock of gray-brown hair out of his eyes, which were still hazed over with sleep. She lifted her head off the pillow just enough so that she could whisper in his ear. _"I've got a secret."_

"Mm." Bruce's eyes fluttered closed.

"I'll tell you if you don't go back to sleep." This time, he didn't answer at all. His breathing was steady but slow. He was asleep. Nat sunk back into the bed, disappointed, her hair streaming out on the pillow behind her. She twisted onto her other side, pressing her back against Bruce's chest. He snored softly in her ear. "Fine. Be that way." It was probably better if he didn't know. If nobody else knew. Still, Nat felt like her heart might explode if she didn't say it out loud. Still facing away from him, she said it, barely above a whisper. _"Tony's in love with Steve."_

"Hmm?" On impulse, she repeated it louder.

"Tony's in love with Steve." She realized her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

 _"What?!"_ His voice raised about seven decibels higher than his usual quiet tone.

"Would you shut it? I don't want to alert the whole compound."

"I'm sorry, I just- whoa."

"Yeah. But it's not really surprising, is it? I mean, they fall right into the whole 'sexual tension disguised as arguing' trope, don't they?"

"But what about Pepper?"

"Pepper dumped Tony six months ago, Bruce, you know... but you don't know, do you?"

"Nope."

"Because you were gone months before that."

"Yep."

"You're not even really here, are you?" No answer. Nat craned her neck to look back at him, but she only saw empty sheets. And then... was someone shouting? It sounded distant, far off, like it was being yelled through a megaphone from a mile away.

She snapped awake, lying on her back, sprawled on top of the thousand-count sheets. Steve was standing over her, his thick eyebrows furrowed. 

"Jesus!" She scrambled to an upright position.

"Sorry, sorry." Steve stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender.

"What are you doing, other than trying to scare the hell out of me?"

"Nothing, I just... can we talk?"

"We talk all the time, Steve. Usually after breakfast."

"I know, but I really need to talk about something, and I wanted to do it before everyone else was up, you know?" His expression was uncharacteristically vulnerable. Nat relaxed a little, scooching into the center of the bed. She patted the spot she had just been sitting in. Steve sat next to her, his back facing her, his head bowed over.

"What's wrong? The last time I saw you like this... actually, I don't think I've ever seen you like this before." Steve tapped out an irregular rhythm on top of the covers with his fingers, his nervous tic. Usually, it just meant he was losing at poker. This time, it seemed far more serious than being down twenty bucks and staring down Clint (who had an impeccable poker face) across the table.

His other hand was shoved deep in his pocket, and even though Natasha couldn't see what was inside it, she was fairly confident she knew. It was the compass, the one he carried with him everywhere. It wasn't the compass itself, but the picture inside that mattered, though.

"I feel..." She snapped out of her daze as he finally spoke. "...guilty. Or something. Like I'm betraying her somehow, without even trying."

"Steve, what are you talking about?" He ignored the question.

"I spent so long loving her and wishing I could go back, because I'm still the same person I was seventy years ago, or at least that's what I thought. And she's _alive,_ Nat." He turned his head to face her, and his clear blue eyes were covered in a thin sheen of tears. "She's alive, but I don't know if she even remembers me, because for her, it was seventy years ago. For me, it's only been four."

"Steve, I still don't get what you're asking me."

"I'm asking... why does it feel so wrong to move on?"

"To move... oh. Oh." Steve shook his head, wiping at his eyes.

"Never mind. I'll just-"

"Hey." Nat placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Steve." He leaned back into her just slightly. "Look, I don't know what to tell you. This is a situation that's never happened before. But guess what? Everything in your life has never happened before. You were the world's first superhero, and you figured that out. If you can do that, you can do anything."

"You're pretty good at this, you know."

"Yeah, it's weird, isn't it?" Nat smiled, and after a moment, so did Steve. "So... are you going to tell me who's got you so worked up at six in the morning, or am I going to have to wait to meet 'em?"

"Not today, Nat. But thanks. For everything." Steve reached back to awkwardly pat one of her legs, then pushed himself to his feet.

"It's not me, is it?" Natasha called jokingly after him.

"Don't flatter yourself, Romanoff. Plus, I wouldn't want to make the big guy angry." The smile that had come with distracting herself began to slip off Nat's face. Why did he have to go and bring up the one person that Natasha decidedly did _not_ want to think about? He hadn't meant to, of course he hadn't, but now the distraction was gone and Natasha was left alone with two things to think about: her own disastrous relationship, on which she was choosing to focus anywhere else, and who, of all people, could be the source of Steve's newfound remorse. And more so than that, she still had Tony's confession from last night to think about. Was it possible that Steve was just as in love with Tony as Tony was with Steve? It seemed impossible, and yet Nat couldn't deny that it would make a lot of sense. They both always seemed to have that eternal look of pining, and they had that old married couple routine down to a science. And if it wasn't Tony, Nat genuinely couldn't figure out who it could be. They spent most of their time at the compound, and when they weren't, they were rarely in the same place. Maybe the clerk at the bookstore? Or the checkout guy at the grocery store? Even those, Steve only went into the city maybe once a week.

So that meant it had to be someone here, at the compound. Who else but Tony, then? Clint was married (and straight, but that was beside the point). Rhodey and Steve bonded over being military guys, but that was pretty much the extent of it all. Thor had taken off after Jane dumped him, and although Nat had to admit that he was a prime physical specimen (he was a god, that might have had something to do with it), he didn't seem quite like Steve's type. Vision was entirely out of the question, given that every fiber of Steve's body protested Vision's very existence. Wanda was a knockout, and a sweet girl, so if it were to be anyone but Tony, it was probably her, but she was just a kid, and still mourning her brother. When she thought about it that way, it was common reasoning that it had to be Tony.

And just like that, Natasha had found her distraction. She would preoccupy herself from her misery by making two of her best friends (not that she'd admit it) less miserable. Together.

"Good morning," Nat greeted Tony with a brilliant smile, holding out a cup of coffee. He was in his lab, and either had changed from his pajamas back into the clothes he'd worn yesterday or, as was probably more likely, hadn't changed at all. Probably hadn't slept, either. He took the coffee from her without a word, not taking his eyes off whatever he was looking at on his tablet. "Hey." She snapped her fingers twice in front of him. Nothing. She leaned in close, until her lips were almost brushing against his ear. "Steve's in love with you."

 _"What?!"_ Tony jumped back, his head snapping up, nearly dropping the tablet.

"Good, I've got your attention."

"Yeah, you got me, now can we go back to the part where-" he lowered his voice, looking around surreptitiously, even though no one else would be up for hours. "-Steve Rogers is in _love with me?"_

"I thought you'd like to hear that, given the conversation we had last night." She looked at him meaningfully over the rim of the coffee cup.

"I told you that because I didn't think it would come to anything, Nat. But if he-" Tony sighed. "Do you know? A hundred percent?"

"Well, not a _hundred-"_ Tony rolled his eyes and slumped forwards. "-but he said he felt like he was moving on from Peggy, and he wouldn't tell me who with."

"That could be literally anyone, Nat."

"No. It couldn't. I did the math. There's no one else."

"And what if I don't like your math?"

"Just think about it. He doesn't have enough contact with the outside world for it to be anyone else."

"And what if he's got an online girlfriend in Texas."

"Tony, he can barely use the landline. I don't think he's got a secret online girlfriend." Tony ran his hands through his hair, making it stand almost straight on end, patches sticking out in every possible direction.

"Christ. I wish I hadn't told you."

"Don't say that. I'm glad you did. You deserve to be happy, you know. Whatever you think."

"I think I made a massive mistake. But there's nothing to be done now, so can we just leave it? Please?" Nat rolled her eyes dramatically, but relented.

"Fine." She picked up the tablet from where Tony had left it on the table. "What did you spend all night working on, presumably instead of sleeping." She swiped through the plans he had drawn up. "A... party?"

"A birthday barbecue on the boat."

"And would this be for a certain American hero whose birthday just happens to be on a certain national holiday next week?"

"Actually, it's July fifth, not fourth, but his birth certificate was legally changed for marketing purposes."

"Uh-huh. And how do you know that?"

"He and I hang out from time to time." Nat cocked an eyebrow at him. "Fine, he told me because I threatened to set off fireworks outside his room all night." Tony smiled to himself. "Still might."

"Still. You're planning his birthday party. That's a step."

"Not interested in talking about it, Romanoff."

"So, what? You're just going to bottle up all your feelings? Then what?"

"You're not the one to lecture me on unhealthy coping mechanisms." Tony waved her off. As Nat turned to leave, he suddenly grabbed her by the arm. Yes. The sweet feeling of vindication flooded Natasha's system. She whirled around, smiling smugly, prepared to make a snarky remark about being right, but Tony just snatched the coffee out of her hand and released her. Oh. Whoops.

"It's fine, it's fine, it's fine," she muttered to herself as she left the lab, coffeeless and defeated. She'd get them together. She always did. And now that she knew about the party, she had the perfect plan. All she needed was a little bit of time.


End file.
